


Consensual Kidnapping

by Sparcina



Series: Drawn Together (Stony variations) [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bottom Tony Stark, Consensual Kidnapping, Disapproving Jarvis, Fury likes the view, Kissing, Longing, M/M, Not that kind of bondage, Rescue, Sex, Smart ass Tony, They are both clueless, Tony is desperate, Top Steve Rogers, stupid plans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 09:51:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9650384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparcina/pseuds/Sparcina
Summary: Tony hasn’t been kidnapped in a while, and Steve has taken the metaphorical two steps back. What better way to win him over than some auto-kidnapping? The thing is, that (stupid) plan might just backfire.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Between two chapters of Second Chance, this is what came to mind. Many thanks to my beta [Kireastiel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kireastiel/pseuds/Kireastiel)!

“Steve!”

Tony sank his teeth into his forearm to keep from incriminating himself further. A wide arc of sperm shot from his cock and dripped down the shower stall, stark white against the polished black tile. He leaned against the glass door and closed his eyes, shivering as his breathing slowly returned to normal. He couldn’t think yet.

He could only embrace the feeling of being shoved against the wall, could only picture those strong, big hands digging into his hips, as the Steve from his fantasies achieved orgasm as well, filling him up with his thick load.

Tony could almost hear the words. The throaty moans rising into the steamy, hot air of the bathroom.

“Tony, oh, Tony, so good.” He would swear, too. He wouldn’t be able to help himself, because Tony hadn’t been on the receiving end of anal penetration for a very long time, and yet he wouldn’t want to be stretched too much, because Steve would enjoy it better if he was just a little too tight. He would be so good for Steve.

“Fuck, Tony.” Steve would brush a wet strand of dark hair from his face and twist his head around to kiss him. “I should have lasted longer, I’m so sorry, but…” More panting. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I felt like I had to tear you apart, you felt so good, god…”

The fantasy was abruptly cut off by Jarvis. Of course, the AI knew everything about his ridiculous crush (and his even more ridiculous shower sessions) but the timely interruption didn’t make it less annoying. Still, he should be grateful that Jarvis had waited a bit. A good bro, his Jarvis.

“Director Fury is waiting on the common floor and requests your presence, Sir.”

“Of course he is,” Tony groaned. 

He wiped the water from his eyes and turned off the faucet. Grabbing the closest towel, he quickly dried himself off, trying half-heartedly to get rid of the pictures that he really _not_ needed to associate with Fury. Ever.

“Let him know I will be down in ten.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“And stop being so damn smug.”

There was a surprised tilt to Jarvis’ voice.

“Me, Sir? I would never dare.”

Tony was halfway to the elevator when he noticed that he had put on his shirt backwards.

*

Real Steve was really different from the Steve in his dreams.

First, Real Steve had chosen the seat as far away from his as possible, as if there wasn’t enough air between them otherwise. Dream Steve would have dragged him onto his lap (unbothered by the daggers Fury would have shot at them) and stroked his arms for the duration of the meeting.

With a sigh, Tony sat down at his usual spot, wishing he could go back to his lab already. He really, really enjoyed to be in Steve’s presence, basking in his beauty, his bravery, and all those other splendid things that made Steve, well, Steve. But not when he was being ignored.

It wasn’t enough that Steve avoided him whenever possible. Tony probably could have dealt with it, if things had always been this way between them. He would have continued to jerk off at the thought of Steve fucking him (who wouldn’t, really?), at least for a while. He would have gotten over his crush eventually. After all, he had enough pride to step back when the other party was not interested.

Not that it happened that often. 

And then Steve had appeared into his life. He had been his shy self at first, his morals clashing with Tony’s lack thereof. For a time, it had looked like they wouldn’t get along at all, to the point where Tony had considered resigning from the Avengers Initiative.

Then the first kidnapping since Steve’s rebirth happened.

Tony had never been hugged so fiercely in all his life. For days afterwards, Steve had kept close tabs on him, making breakfast for the team and ensuring Tony ate his part. He had dropped by the lab under the pretext of checking on Tony’s work, and then (the cherry on top of the Captain Sundae) he had suggested a movie night during which he had tucked Tony into a ridiculously warm blanket on the couch, right beside him.

It would have been annoying. Should have. But Tony was already halfway in love with Steve, and Steve had kept shooting sideway glances at him, blushing whenever Tony caught him looking. It was _so_ cute, and at least twenty shades of arousing.

Right until Steve started acting all distant again. He was still friendly, but more… reserved, so to speak. Careful.

Needless to say, it annoyed Tony to no end. Especially since he got kidnapped again, and for seven days afterwards, Steve took care of him like he had done the first time, riding the ever thinner line between friendly and something more. Tony had broken a couple of valuable tools in his lab when Steve had returned to his glacial distant routine afterwards.

He must have made some kind of noise unconsciously, because whatever conversation was happening in front of him stopped.

“Is there something you wish to add to this meeting, Stark?” Fury looked positively annoyed, which was by far Tony’s preferred expression on his face.  

“Nope,” the inventor replied, flicking an imaginary speck out of his nail. He stole a glance at Steve who, of course, was already glaring at him with disapproval.

“You’re not even listening, are you?”

“You were explaining the details of our next offensive against Doom,” Tony replied sweetly to the venomous tone.

It was but a guess, but Clint’s amused expression (and Fury’s clear annoyance) reassured him that he was right.

He spent the rest of the meeting avoiding Steve’s eyes. After all, there was only so much a man could do before he went mad.

*

“I really wouldn’t encourage doing that, Sir.”

Tony tsked in annoyance.

“There’s no danger, Jarvis. I’ve done worse multiple times, and that was without my consent. You do know about consent, right?”

Jarvis ignored his attempt at distraction. “I would still advise you to reconsider.”

Tony snorted. “And grow a case of blue balls? No chance in Hell, pal. You’ll just have to help or keep silent for the next couple of hours.”

If his AI could have sighed, he probably would have. Tony bit down his lip. Of course Jarvis was right; this new plan of his was completely ridiculous. But if there was even one chance, in a million, that Steve would stop being so cold to him, Tony was ready to take it, consequences be damned.

“Find me Doom’s number.”

His AI’s reply was to let out a petulant sigh. Tony grabbed his Starkphone and waited impatiently for Doom’s office phone number to flash on the screen.

“Thanks, pal.” He'd never thought the day would come when he would ask an enemy for that kind of favor, but he’d never expected to fall for America’s golden boy either.

A suave woman’s voice answered. “Doctor Doom’s office, how may I help you?”

Tony didn’t hesitate. He had thought hard over the last week. This redundant circle of Steve-being-distant to Tony-being-kidnapped to Steve-being-extra-friendly to Steve-being-distant-again was a pattern, and the logical conclusion was that if the only way for Steve to like Tony was for Tony to get kidnapped, well...

“This is Tony Stark. Transfer me to Doom.”

“Dr. Doom is currently busy-”

Tony’s smile resembled a shark grin in its aggressiveness. “Trust me, cupcake, he will want to take this call.”

And that’s how Tony Stark ended up being kidnapped again.

*

Steve paced on the kitchen floor, fists clasped at his back. Natasha, who was perched on a stool nearby, was busying herself with a cup of Oreo ice cream, which Clint kept eyeing enviously. Bruce was reading some article on his tablet, comfortably sitting on the dinner table. Even Fury just stared at the setting sun, as if he wasn’t needed for a bajillion other things back at his office.

Was he the only one who was worried? He swore under his breath.

“Director,” he called again. “I believe we should start searching.”

Fury made a dismissive motion with a hand, still staring at the view. “It’s Stark, Rogers. This is not the first time he’s decided to vanish on a whim. He will turn around in a couple of hours or days, like usual.”

Steve didn’t feel like waiting for hours. Or days. He would go mad before that happened. Tony… Tony Stark was the most reckless and bravest man he ever had the pleasure to meet. A mitigated pleasure, to be sure, but a pleasure nonetheless.

The first time they’d met, he was brought back to his teenage years. He had felt as though he had not woken from seventy years of ice, but in the depths of a volcano, so fast his heart was beating.

Of course, Tony Stark was also a jerk. A handsome, intelligent, brave jerk, but still a jerk.

Steve hadn’t known what to do. Love and anger didn’t blend well, but he had somehow managed to survive the emotional storm in his chest for the last few months. He thought he had hidden it well, this crush of his, but whenever Tony was in danger’s arms, he knew his affection showed. He cared too much, and that would be his undoing.

“I’m going to look for him,” he announced.

As if on cue, Jarvis’ cultured voice sounded in the speakers.

“Mr. Rogers, I’ve just received a notification regarding Sir’s absence.”

As the AI spoke, Steve felt himself grow colder. Doom? That couldn’t be good. Even Natasha had left her ice cream cup on the counter, her eyes back to evaluating everything and everyone in the room.

Fury finally stopped feigning an interest in the sunset. “How had Stark managed to get himself into that kind of trouble, Jarvis?”

Steve just didn’t care enough to know. “I’m going right now.”

Bruce and Clint stood up. Natasha followed them out of the room.

“We’ll find him,” she assured him with her usual assurance.

*

Tony shouldn’t be that surprised that his plan backfired at him. To be honest, he hadn’t quite expected to end up tied by one foot, head-down above a pool of hungry sharks with blood running down his temples from multiple wounds in his chest, but really, it _had_ been a stupid plan.

“This is what happens when you organize your own kidnapping,” Tony mused aloud.

He couldn’t breathe right. According to the fucking plan, he should have been locked up somewhere in a remote room, like a legendary damsel in distress waiting for her knight in shining white armor to show up. Not that he didn’t like sharks, because he did. He’d even wanted one as a pet for a while. It was just that the combination of Doomness, sharks, being tied upside-down and hurting didn’t appeal to him.

“You’re not really hungry,” he told the sharks swimming under him. They were kind of big. Like shit-they-can-eat-me-whole big. “It’s just in your heads, buddies.”

Doom shouldn’t have been that much of a wild card either. Hell, he knew a wild card when he saw one, and his prime example wore a golden helmet with horns, not an outdated three-piece suit. And yet Doom had managed to catch him by surprise.

He really should have listened to Jarvis. He sighed. “I promise I won’t try to pull a stunt like that again, pal. I really don’t care about sharks that much.”

He was getting light-headed. At some point, he couldn't even recognize the words that came out of his mouth. It was becoming harder and harder to know where he was, and why. He tried to pinpoint the location of his heart, and was surprised to hear beating in his head.

The world was really, really strange. And damn, where was Captain America when you needed him?

That was when he caught the human shape closing on the pool. The shield on his back gave him away immediately. Relief flooded Tony as he saw Steve drop from the ceiling and land mere meters from him.

“STEVE!”

“Do shut up for once, Tony.”

Steve’s voice was hoarse. Tony grinned madly. He still felt light-headed, but in a good way.

“Have you seen the sharks, cupcake? It’s nice to ride…” He trailed off, then gave out a small laugh that didn’t sound like his own. “I’d like to ride you, y’ know. You’re so pretty like this. Gimme a kiss.”

Steve closed the distance between them in two efficient steps and clamped a hand on his mouth. His eyebrows were drawn close in worry, but the light in his eyes spoke of many, many things that didn’t relate to discipline.

“I told you to stay quiet. Do you want to get out of here or not?”

In order to touch Tony, he had to rise on his tiptoes. For a moment, Tony feared he would lose his balance and get acquainted with the sharks beneath him, but Steve was just that good with balance.

Tony didn’t see him cut the rope at his left ankle, but a second later, he was in Steve’s arms, above a ground comfortingly devoid of fin.

“I knew you would come,” he said, still in that curious groggy voice.

Steve snorted. “Of course I came. You were in danger, and I could help.”

“Yep, that was the plan. Jarvis didn’t agree, but-”

Steve stopped dead in his tracks. Tony noticed that they stood in front of the ventilation shaft.

“Did you just say that you arranged for your own kidnapping?” Steve asked very calmly.

Tony tried not to wince and failed lamentably. His big mouth, seriously…

“Not in so many words, but-”

Doom’s guards chose this moment to storm into the room. Steve jumped with Tony in his arms, avoiding the flying bullets, before throwing the other man into the metallic opening of the vent.

“Start crawling, Stark!”

*

Getting out of Doom’s maze had been hell, but the flight back to the Tower with a furious Steve had been even more uncomfortable.

As soon as they entered the building, Tony addressed Jarvis. “Please stop me from future ventures, will you?”

“With pleasure, Sir.”

Tony expected Steve to scream, but the Captain just followed him to his floor, jaw tense and fists clutched at his sides. Natasha, Bruce and Clint had wisely gotten out of the way, probably to discuss his foolishness with Fury (or take bets as to his state after Steve was done with him). Tony felt like asking Loki for another dive through the window, which no doubt spoke of his current state of desperation.

The lift beeped. Tony exhaled, and rubbed his temples. This whole thing had gone pear-shaped very quickly, and he was left with a headache the size of the Statue of Liberty, and a disappointed Steve to deal with. He hated it when he disappointed Steve.

“I’m going to grab a glass of water. Want something?”

Steve didn’t reply, but when Tony was back in his living room, Steve was sitting in the middle of the large sofa, a bottle of whisky (an empty one, apparently) clenched tight into one fist. Tony kept his mouth shut and sat down opposite him, on a leather chair that should be comfortable but felt like a fakir’s carpet right about now.

Steve’s eyes had turned a very dark shade of blue. “I’m going to kill you, Tony,” he announced without further prompting. “Slowly and painfully.”

Tony’s lopsided smile came to life. He drank half his glass before replying. “Well, not that I’m against pain and all that, but there are circumstances where I would more than welcome them, and…”

“Stop right there.”

Suddenly, Steve was standing in front of him (or rather, towering over him), eyes blazing. He bent a knee and reached for his shoulders, embracing him with an urgency that did something funny to his heart.  

“Let me hold you,” he murmured in Tony’s hair. “Please.”

“Gladly,” Tony slurred. Damn, he hadn’t hoped for any display of affection at that point. A fist to his face, maybe. A rough shove, possibly. Perhaps even a spanking, although spanking was probably (unfortunately) not down Steve’s alley. 

After a minute of complete bliss, Steve stepped back. He looked devastatingly handsome.

“You’re so gorgeous when you’re angry,” were the first words that left Tony’s mouth.

Hesitation shone in blue eyes, but Steve didn’t relax his grip on his shoulders. Tony considered pointing out that it hurt and thought better of it. He opted for another kind of honesty. “I really like you, you know. I was just…”

“Stupid? Mad?”

“Pretty desperate to get a reaction out of you,” Tony admitted, staring straight into Steve’s eyes. “I’ve…” No, Tony Stark didn’t stutter, even drugged and tired to the bones. Even on the receiving hand of that formidable gaze. “I’ve liked you for a while, you know.”

“I suppose you couldn’t simply tell me?”

Tony swallowed. All in. “I could show you, I guess.”

“That’s a good boy.”

*

Tony looked willing enough, so Steve tightened his already strong grip on Tony's shoulder and went for his mouth. Tony’s lips (warm, exquisite) parted immediately. Steve eagerly traced them with his tongue before diving further into the hot depths of that mouth. Tony was so open for him. So pliant. Steve felt all the blood rush to his groin as Tony shimmied under him to welcome a thigh between his legs.

“Fuck, Steve. Don’t hold back. If you really want it, just… ah!”

The keening noise Steve got for rubbing his knee over the bulge in Tony’s pants made him lean closer. Touch. He wished to touch every part of that man, and have him moan from it.

“Don’t you worry that pretty little head,” he found himself saying. Tony just had a gift for prompting the dirtiest lines out of him. He felt himself grow harder and couldn’t suppress a growl as Tony rubbed against his thigh, eyes shut to better feel the friction. “I’ll give us what we need.”

Still, Steve was not the master here in erotic conversation, and he blushed at Tony’s next words. Crude, explicit suggestions. Steve settled on his knees before they gave away. His thumbs found Tony’s waistband and pulled.

“I’ll give you…” Tony’s cheeks had turned a gorgeous shade of red. Steve licked at his jawline while he helped him out of his pants. He just couldn’t get enough of him. It was a wonder, really, that they hadn’t ended up in this position sooner. “I’ll give you whatever you want, Stevie,” Tony went on in that low, aroused tone that Steve wished he could wrap around his body. It felt so damn good. “Take me. Make me suck you, god knows you deserve it for everything I’ve put you through. Make me worship your cock until I choke, use my ass until I’m sore, I want you in me, please, it’s been so long since…”

Steve silenced him by pressing a thumb against his naked hole. Tony’s whole body stiffened. The wanton moan that followed reassured Steve as to the reason of his tension.

“You want it bad, pretty one. But I’m not sure you deserve it just yet.”

Tony’s eyes snapped open. His hips jerked forwards, trying to follow Steve’s digit as it was snatched away.

Steve’s heart picked up speed. He wanted…

“Turn around, Tony. Show me what you want.”

A moment too late, Steve remembered that maybe, just maybe, they shouldn’t be doing this. After all, Tony had just gotten back from Doom’s cave, and his headache was no laughing matter. He tried to think rationally through the haze of his lust, but then Tony was in the ordered position, buttocks high and ass exposed, and Steve forgot what he was going to say.

His body, however, had not forgotten. _Smack!_

“Yes!” Tony howled, parting his legs even wider. Steve hadn’t known he was so flexible. “Again!”

Steve’s hand fell down hard on the other buttock. _Smack! Smack! Smack!_ Pleasure rippled through him as the red print of his hand appeared on the white skin. Guided by Tony’s pleas for more, he spanked him exactly ten times before leaning over his trembling body.

“Good boy.”

Tony shivered. Steve reached for his hole. His eyesight was blurry from how much he wanted, needed this. Tony arched his back as Steve rubbed his middle finger over the sensitive skin.

“Come on, Steve, you want it. Take me like this, I want to feel it, god, your cock, I’ve dreamt of it…”

Steve’s voice was rough. “You never know when to shut up, do you?”

“Only when I have your cock to suck, I think.”

Steve spent the next eternity fingering Tony open. It had been pleasant in his fantasies, but it was even more satisfying in reality. Tony just kept making those indecent noises, and his ass… It was incredibly warm, perfect. It sheathed Steve’s fingers perfectly as well, two of them now. When Tony started to meet his every thrust with desperate rolls of his hips, Steve added a third.

“Oh yes, oh yes, Steve, Steeeeeeeeeve!”

“Feels good, pretty boy? Tell me how good I feel fucking your ass.”

“I’ll tell you so when I feel your dick, Rogers!”

Oh, was Tony getting impatient? Steve chuckled and licked a rivulet of sweat, adoring Tony’s golden back, caressing his spine while he slowly pulled out his fingers. He hadn’t done this in a long time, but he remembered perfectly what followed, and how.

In the end, he breached Tony on the floor. The other man was lying on his belly, and Steve had his hips trapped under his weight. He entered Tony slowly, marveling at every inch conquered, shuddering from the delicious tendrils of awe that kept climbing up his body. His cock felt so hard the irrational part of his brain feared it would break in half.

When he was fully in (and Tony reduced to a whimpering mess under him), Steve exhaled harshly. “Never do that again.”

 _To me_.

Tony was curiously silent then.

“Promised,” he said at last, quiet. “But if you don’t start moving soon, I might just forget about it.”

“Brat.” Steve pulled back, then pounded back in, hard. He leaned over Tony as the other man sank his nails into the carpet. He licked behind an ear, savoring the yearning coursing through Tony’s body. It was good to have him like that. Not making trouble. Safe. He wanted Tony safe, because he loved him like a fool, and he had the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Tony loved him back a little.

“Stay silent, now.”

And he fucked Tony through the carpet, ever thankful for the serum improving his stamina. Tony gasped under him, screamed Steve’s name, cried, even, as Steve’s hips snapped back and forth deeper into him, his cock warming every inch it found. He could feel himself getting close, but he wanted Tony to come, needed him to come, so he slapped a cheek, hard, and started fucking him in earnest.

The moment Tony spilled, Steve blacked out for the best part of a second. He felt how his seed shot deep into Tony, filling him up. Some of it leaked between his buttocks and slid down Steve’s thighs.

As an artist, it was a picture Steve could certainly appreciate. He gave himself a half-minute to appreciate the contrast in colors (his cum was so white against Tony’s tanned skin) before pulling back.

Tony looked properly used, and content, and didn’t try to hide it. Steve kissed his smug smile away.

“Now we take a shower and go to bed. No argument.”

“No argument,” Tony repeated obediently. “Steve…”

“What is it?” The tone was gentle, fitting Tony’s worried expression.

 “You won’t give me the cold shoulder tomorrow, right?”

Steve’s physical answer, albeit lacking in words, was answer enough.


End file.
